Category: Blog

At otenga, it has a unique experience, unlike ither cafes, because of its communal concept. It started as a graduation program, the idea of creating a community was there from the beginning. The original idea was feeding the singular floating population to create a healthier student community, which became a reason to build so many good relationships that otenga still harnesses and celebrates today. Its inspiration was how food brings people together, sharing their stories and even cooking together were early ideas for forming a community. Ahmedabad has a diverse population and with recent cultural shifts, there is a need for place like Otenga to build community

Community building at otenga is done in a very sensitive and careful manner and has been unstated set of rules. Otenga is designed in such a way that merges individualism with the community. On entering the space, they can be themselves; it’s calm, and there is no one to judge. One can walk up and have a conversation with anyone and meet like-minded people. It’s all about the people and how they make one feel, which makes it different from other cafes and restaurants. Hence, this place became a community of like-minded people who share the same beliefs. The portrays the diverse knowledge every other person would have. It is a community of free thinkers who are interested in similar things, are heartened, and like to socialize. Summarizing this, the patrons will have diverse encounters such as communal culinary, societal, creative, cultural, and intellectual, improving the overall experience at otenga.

What makes otenga community unique?

A community is a group of people having common characteristics or interests within a larger society. A group that shares social objectives has some social implications and thrives in those objectives. Building a community is like growing a plant, a plant doesn’t grow in aday similarly a community also takes time to grow and expand. It starts with different people coming together at one place for different interest like, reading, cooking etc. eventually, as the interactions grow between the patrons and share their experiences they gradually start to build a bond then create a community. Some of otenga’s community qualities are supportive and helpful to everyone, active engagement, vision, compassion, and empathy with an aim to flourish, collectively. A community is considered an intangible part of otenga. It’s one of those places where you will end up meeting interesting people or get engaged in good conversation. At otenga nothing is business-oriented, here patrons are priority over profits which makes it a special place that offers an authentic experience. If metaphorically described otenga’s community is

Cafes have always been more than coffee and conversations. They are places where people arrive with different stories yet find the same sense of comfort. They are spaces where friendships begin, creativity grows, silence feels gentle, and thoughts wander freely. At Otenga, this idea is not an accessory. It is the heart that shapes everything we do. From the first brick to the first cup we ever served, our intention was to create a cafe culture where people feel held, inspired, and connected. We wanted Otenga to become a place that breathes with the rhythms of the community, listens to its people, and feels like a cultural home made from many hands and many dreams.

A Space Built Around People And Their Presence

When Otenga was first imagined, the dream was simple. We wanted a space where people do not rush, where they do not feel watched or measured, and where time slows down just enough for them to feel present. Instead of focusing on how many tables we could place, we focused on how freely people could settle into the environment. We wanted a cafe that feels like a pause in the middle of a busy week, a warm seat for someone looking for companionship or solitude, and a gentle breath of calm for those carrying the noise of the outside world.

Slowly, our guests shaped this dream into reality. Students arrived with notebooks and quietly turned Otenga into their reading corner. Freelancers made it their creative workspace. Artists found comfortable corners where ideas could bloom. Writers came with journals filled with half written stories, and conversations flowed between strangers who soon felt familiar. Day by day, people brought their own energy into the space, and that is when Otenga transformed into something much bigger than a cafe. It became a shared space where meaning grows naturally through the presence of the community.

Where Creativity Finds A Home Of Its Own

Art at Otenga did not enter dramatically. It arrived gently, almost shyly, through the people who visited us. It came in the form of sketchbooks left open on tables, small doodles shared between friends, quick poems scribbled on napkins, and the soft hum of someone practicing a song when they thought no one was listening. These early moments told us something important. Art does not need to be invited. It appears the moment a space feels safe enough for expression.

Today Otenga has become a quiet sanctuary for artists, illustrators, readers, performers, researchers, musicians, thinkers, and anyone who carries a creative spark within. We host workshops and gatherings where the line between audience and creator disappears. We celebrate small exhibitions that highlight local talent and hold intimate sessions where people come together as collaborators in one collective creative energy. Even on an ordinary day, a sense of artistry lingers in the air. It lives in the conversations, in the walls, and in the shared silence that often speaks louder than words.

The Cultural Hub That Grew Organically

The cultural identity of Otenga emerged without force or planning. It unfolded naturally, shaped by the warmth of the community. People found comfort in the space, and soon it became a corner for meaningful cultural exchange. Some arrived with books and ended up exchanging stories with strangers. Others discussed films, design, architecture, or music over a cup of tea. Study groups formed naturally, not through arrangement but through the slow discovery of shared interests.

This is how Otenga became a cultural hub where ideas flow without formality and where every person brings a piece of their world. Here, culture is not a program. It is a living presence created each day by the people who gather within these walls. The beauty of this growth lies in the fact that Otenga never tried to become a cultural center. The community simply saw it as one and we embraced that identity with gratitude.

Community As Our Core Identity

At Otenga, community is not a concept we display. It is something we practice. Every event we plan, every corner we design, and every interaction we cultivate begins with the desire to make people feel included and valued. We do not see guests as visitors. We see them as contributors to this shared ecosystem. Each person who walks into Otenga shapes the experience of everyone else, and that interconnectedness is what makes the space feel alive.

Over time, Otenga has become a comforting space for students, a productive corner for freelancers, a nurturing shelter for artists, a meeting place for creative minds, and a second home for those seeking belonging. When people sit at a table here, they do not simply consume food or coffee. They participate in the story of Otenga. They leave behind memories, energy, conversations, and inspiration that continue to shape the space long after they step out.

Why Cafe Culture Matters So Deeply To Us

The cafe culture at Otenga is built on a simple belief. A place feels alive when the people inside it feel at home. Everything we do comes from this understanding. The warmth in the interactions, the openness in the atmosphere, the encouragement for creativity, and the gentle invitation for meaningful connection all stem from a desire to make people feel truly seen.

When someone laughs at a table, when a person reads quietly in the corner, when two strangers begin talking and discover shared passions, when ideas take shape over food and conversations, Otenga becomes more than a cafe. It becomes a memory. It becomes a feeling of peace and belonging that stays long after the visit is over.

This is the culture we promise to nurture every single day. A culture of warmth, creativity, connection, and community where people are not just served. They are welcomed. They are understood. They are valued. And they are part of something that continues to grow beautifully with every passing day.

The story behind our self service philosophy begins with a simple truth. At Otenga, every element of our space carries intention. From the design of our walls to the aroma of the food, nothing exists by accident. Among these thoughtfully crafted elements, one of the most essential yet often the quietest has been our approach to self service. For many cafes, self service is purely operational. For us, it has always been experiential. It reflects who we are as a brand and what we value as a community. But like every meaningful idea, our self service philosophy had a journey of its own

In our early days, we noticed a pattern. Guests loved the atmosphere, connected with the food, and engaged warmly with the team, but many of them did not return their plates after meals. It was not intentional and it was not careless. It happened simply because people did not know. And that is when it struck us. While Otenga offered self service, Otenga had never spoken about self service. As a brand built on clarity, warmth, and community, this silence did not feel right. We wanted our guests to understand not just what we offer, but why we offer it.

Self service for us is not just about logistics. It is about culture. It strengthens the connection between people and our space. When guests actively participate, they feel a sense of belonging. The cafe no longer remains just a place, it becomes their place. It maintains a clean and harmonious environment. Returning plates keeps the dining area pleasant for everyone, ensuring smoother operations and a more enjoyable experience. It reflects the values our brand stands for. Responsibility, warmth, and togetherness are not words we put on posters. They are values we practice daily in the smallest ways. But our guests could embrace this philosophy only if they understood it, so we acted.

To communicate our intention gently and effectively, we introduced a specially designed self service card placed on every tray. The message was simple, warm, and true to the Otenga voice. Enjoy your meal. We request you to kindly return your plates after use. Thank you for being a part of our community. This card was not just a reminder, it was a representation of our brand ethos, polite, personal, and community forward. On the back, we added a quick response code linking to Otenga’s social media, allowing guests to explore upcoming events, workshops, and behind the scenes stories of our space. It became more than a card, it became a doorway into the Otenga world.

After introducing the card, the shift was immediate and heartwarming. Most guests began returning their plates voluntarily. Many carried the cards home, treating them as a keepsake. Guests discovered our events and workshops more actively through the digital link. The atmosphere felt more organized, more cohesive, and more in tune with the Otenga spirit. Even during peak hours, where occasional slip ups were natural, the overall awareness transformed beautifully. The community understood us better, and in return, we understood them better.

The evolution of our self service system taught us a simple yet powerful lesson. Good communication does not need to be loud, it just needs to be intentional. Instead of rules, we offered warmth. Instead of instructions, we offered a connection. Instead of reminders, we offered belonging. And our community responded with the same sincerity.

Today, self service is one of the many ways guests interact with Otenga not as customers, but as part of our shared ecosystem. It mirrors the values we aim to grow with. Mutual respect, shared responsibility, conscious choices, and a feeling of home that everyone contributes to. At Otenga, self service has become more than a practice. It has become a reflection of who we are and what we hope to build every single day

The Feeling That Turned Otenga into a Sanctuary is belongingness

If Otenga had a heartbeat, it would be belongingness. It is the one emotion that cannot be built on demand, cannot be designed through infrastructure, and cannot be performed. It grows only in spaces where people feel safe enough to exist without shrinking themselves. During Otenga 2.0, belongingness did not arrive suddenly or loudly. It came slowly, like dawn creeping in through a quiet room. We noticed it first in small, unassuming moments—moments we did not stage, but moments that revealed the true character of Otenga.

If Otenga had a heartbeat, it would be belongingness. It is the one emotion that cannot be built on demand, cannot be designed through infrastructure, and cannot be performed. It grows only in spaces where people feel safe enough to exist without shrinking themselves. During Otenga 2.0, belongingness did not arrive suddenly or loudly. It came slowly, like dawn creeping in through a quiet room. We noticed it first in small, unassuming moments—moments we did not stage, but moments that revealed the true character of Otenga.

When we conducted the prompt card interviews, more than half the participants chose “belongingness,” and their reasons were tender. Many had recently moved cities and were looking for something that resembled home. Some were healing from burnout and found comfort in the slow rhythm of our gatherings. Others spoke about the relief of hearing their own language or seeing practices they grew up with. For some, it was simply the warmth of being in a space where they didn’t need to perform social roles. These stories made us realise that Otenga had become much more than a creative space. It had become a sanctuary—an emotional refuge people were carrying with them long after events ended.

Belongingness at Otenga is not decorative. It is not manufactured through aesthetics. It is felt in the softness of the conversations, the ease with which people laugh, the smell of food that reminds them of home, the chai that tastes better when shared with a stranger, the music that doesn’t demand attention but gently holds the room. Even in silence, there is comfort here. People sit together without needing to fill the air. They exist freely, and that, in itself, is belonging.

As we moved into Otenga 3.0, belongingness became the guiding principle for everything we shaped. We began to see it not just as an emotion but as a form of architecture—emotional architecture. The way the seating is arranged, the way circles form during discussions, the corners that allow solitude without loneliness, the familiar rituals that gently bring people together, the respect we give to every identity that walks through our door—everything was redesigned to honour the feeling of “you are safe here.” Belongingness also began to shape our cultural practices, from how we open conversations to the way we close gatherings, always ensuring people leave feeling held, not dismissed

Over time, we understood why people kept coming back. It wasn’t because every program was perfect. It was because the space felt right. It felt like a place where they did not have to shrink parts of themselves to fit in. Where they could walk in tired, overwhelmed, confused, or even heartbroken—and still feel welcomed. Otenga became that rare place where no one needed permission to be themselves.

Belongingness is not something Otenga gives. It is something Otenga makes space for. It is discovered slowly, through experience and trust, through shared silences and spontaneous conversations. It grows when people feel seen for who they are, not for who they are expected to be. This feeling is what makes Otenga, Otenga. And as Otenga 3.0 continues to evolve, this remains the most important truth we carry forward: home is not a building. It is a feeling. And that feeling is belongingness.

When Learning Became the Soul Movement of Otenga

There is something profoundly intimate about learning when it arrives slowly and naturally, without being announced or formalised. At Otenga 2.0, this form of learning grew quietly, like sunlight finding its way through bamboo. We never sat down to design a “knowledge-sharing culture,” nor did we plan elaborate structures around it. It simply began to emerge—first as scattered conversations near the end of events, then as exchanges between strangers sitting side by side, and eventually as one of the very pillars that shaped the Otenga experience.

The earliest glimpses of this came during late-evening gatherings, when a musician would casually explain that a rhythm he played came from childhood evenings during electricity cuts. A weaver once showed how she twisted threads slightly differently depending on the season. Someone else shared the memory of a wild herb that only her grandmother knew how to spot. Another visitor explained the real meaning of a folk song half the room had hummed without understanding. One day, a young artist opened up about using painting as a way of surviving grief. None of these stories came from a stage. They came naturally, in the way that real knowledge always does—through experience, through memory, through the small things that shape people’s lives.

During the prompt card interviews, we realised how deeply this touched people. A significant number of participants chose “knowledge sharing” as one of their favourite parts of Otenga, and their reasons revealed something essential. They enjoyed learning without pressure. They enjoyed the freedom to ask questions they felt too shy to ask elsewhere. They found comfort in speaking about what they knew, even if they didn’t consider themselves “experts.” Many said they felt valued for who they were—not for what they had achieved. It became clear that Otenga’s strength was not just in the programs we curated but in the kind of openness people found in the space. It was the openness that allowed them to give something of themselves.

Knowledge at Otenga did not look like formal teaching. It did not involve whiteboards, elaborate setups, or strict roles. Knowledge here looked like someone showing another person how to wrap bamboo leaves around rice. It sounded like someone explaining a rhythm their community uses during harvest festivals. It felt like a conversation about sustainability born from someone’s lived struggle with climate change. Sometimes it arrived as a poem someone had written in the middle of heartbreak. Other times it took the form of a farming trick passed down through generations. Knowledge was everything life had taught someone, offered gently to a room full of people who wanted to understand.

When we began shaping Otenga 3.0, we knew this was not something we could allow to fade. It had to become a deeper part of the experience. But the intention was never to turn it into structured “sessions.” Instead, we wanted to hold space for knowledge to flow the way it naturally did—without hierarchy, without performance, without the need to impress. In Otenga 3.0, knowledge sharing became a circular movement where everyone stood at the same level. Younger people learnt from elders, and elders learnt from younger voices. Artists discovered new insights from farmers, and farmers found resonance with musicians. People began to exchange thoughts shaped not by theory, but by lived realities—everything from craft techniques to social truths, from emotional survival to cultural inheritance.

With time, we realised that learning at Otenga changed people. Not in dramatic, life-altering ways, but gently—like a shift in perspective, a softening of the heart, a deepening of understanding. People carried these conversations home with them. They repeated them to friends. They remembered them during moments when life got heavy. And that, more than anything else, made knowledge sharing the quiet backbone of Otenga.

Today, as Otenga 3.0 grows, this remains one of the most sacred parts of our identity. People do not come to Otenga to consume content. They come to become more open, more connected, and more aware of the worlds carried within others. In that sense, knowledge sharing has never been just an activity. It is a soul movement—a gentle ripple that expands with every person who walks through Otenga’s doors and feels safe enough to share something of their own story

Otenga went through so many qualitative research tools and one of them was the observation deck. We designed cards for people to pen down their observations around Otenga. The observation deck was kept on each table at Otenga for patrons as a testing ground to record patron’s observations while they were at Otenga. Through the participatory method of data, collection, empty cards were kept so patrons could doodle or even write their observations and memorable experiences. The adaptation of this tool was successful and the analysis is as follows.

It is interesting how patrons have illustrated small details such as objects and elements kept in Otenga. On one card a sketch of Ontenga’s staff cleaning the shelf is captured reflecting positive aspects of the space. Patrons have written about their overall experience and admire the food quality and taste. A few have tried to narrate their response by calligraphy or simple doodling. It also depends on how every individual wants to express it, whether through quotes, scribbling, or just writing it down. There was also a response on the recently introduced new menu and a few things to improve on. For some guests, it was expressed as a way of advertising whereas for others as feedback.

Their first reaction was to read the question on the observation card where most patrons started a discussion about prompts and illustration. It differs from patron to patron. Someone who is there for work might just look at cards and keep them down, while a group of friends will be willing to explore. Some patrons took empty cards, pencils, pens, and an observation deck with them.

Many inquiries about the artist who drew the illustration, while someone using cards in a hurry made them torn. A few wrote some mindless things, and someone’s mood got elevated seeing these captivating cards. This process also reflects the behavioral patterns of guests, and how they react in such an environment.

After the experiment, the cards were revised which enhanced the way to understand the patrons better and improved the purpose of the cards. Hence it helped to perceive through the lens of patrons, their behaviors, and recording psychological impact through the observation deck. .